


one hell of a ransom

by kouje



Series: blue spirit and his dreaded pirates [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pirate, Alternate Universe - The Princess Bride, Blue Spirit Zuko (Avatar), F/F, captain zuko, idk if it comes across but yue using contractions is the ultimate metric of her comfortability, im in love with suki and im in love with yue and suki and yue are in love with each other, quartermaster suki, yue is captured by the honor and the honor's heart is captured by yue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2020-11-06
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:42:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27421405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kouje/pseuds/kouje
Summary: Suki could see why this bounty was so valued. She was beautiful, ethereal, the most lovely creature she had ever seen in her life (and Suki had frequented enough ports and royal ships and brothels in her time to have quite a rounded catalogue of lovely creatures).Fuck.-this is a one-shot based on a kissing book - i don't think you need to read it to understand but some of the details might be a little fuzzy if you dont (but also: i'd love if you read it lol my ego has become dependent on hits)
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar), Suki/Yue (Avatar)
Series: blue spirit and his dreaded pirates [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999375
Comments: 9
Kudos: 76





	one hell of a ransom

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: this is the first of what is sure to be at least several one-shots stemming from a kissing book! most of these snippets will be The After of the story, after zuko managed to adopt several children / young adults / plain old adults and they joined the crew of the honor (some *may* take place in the In Between but that’s to be decided when i’m bored at work and get the urge to write them). more than likely absolutely none of them will be in order so unless stated otherwise just assume they happen on some amorphous jeremy bearimy timeline or whatever. once again: thank u for reading, if u happen to care enough to have any one-shot requests let me know and i’ll likely write it bc im too eager to please. xoxo luv uuuu

Zuko’s reign as the Blue Spirit had become much more democratic than his predecessors as of late. His crew was no longer made up of experienced, old salt seadogs who had become accustomed to violence (and, more often than is comfortable, grown to like it), but was now composed largely of young pirates who were still quite full of youthful joy and hope for a better future. It was only sensical that her culture evolved to meet them somewhere in the middle. For the fifty-three years the _Honor_ and her fearsome captain Blue Spirit had been ruling the seas, there had been a strict policy of no survivors (with the singular exception of Zuko himself), which is how the Blue Spirit and his dreaded pirates maintained such a horrible reputation. Stories of the captain, in his emotionless theatrical mask, mercilessly slicing the throats of his captives and enemies were spoken with horror from the lips of dying sailors, and their listener would repeat the story with the same horror and often more exaggerated detail, and then _that_ listener would repeat the story with even more horror and even more exaggerations to a full tavern or around an enraptured campfire and _then_ —well, so on and so forth, with so many different stories, across so many different years.

The point is, the Blue Spirit left no survivors, until he did. Zuko had recently developed a policy of trying to leave at least thirty percent of any crew as survivors unless it absolutely could not be helped. They were working their way up to a cool seventy percent, but Zuko understood that they needed to ease into this new policy, as most of their blades were too accustomed to blood and tended to grow thirsty on the deck of a captive ship.

They were much too good at their jobs for it to be an issue, of course, but Zuko did have one stipulation to this policy change: no matter the number of survivors, there must be a one-hundred percent success rate of pillaging _and_ plundering _and_ pirating. So, whether aiming for survivors or not, they were thorough and ruthless and maintained an incredible reputation, but now with a hint of moral respect in the resulting nightmares.

They found themselves having particular success this time around. Aang had spotted a ship from the crow’s nest and called out to Zuko to check it out - it was nondescript and flew no colors, clearly not a merchant ship or fishing vessel, but also not a naval vessel or anything easily recognizable. They attacked out of curiosity more than anything. It was certainly an outlier that might not be counted in their policy implementation statistics - the entire enemy crew remained alive, with all but one tied tightly around the deck, and the one left unbound was knocked unconscious so that he might cut them all free once the _Honor_ departed.

(Toph had once suggested tying up surviving crewmen and leaving them to starve - death not by their hand, but one that would further the narrative of terror. Zuko had survived three months in the Boiling Rock and had thought, several times, that starvation was how he would die. He could not bear the thought of doing that to anyone else, and the idea was shot down harshly. She brought him a flagon of beer to make up for it, just as he had brought her a strange-textured rock he had found at port recently. There was no need for forgiveness on either end, but they gave it anyway.)

The ship was well-stocked from a fresh plunder, confirming that they _were_ pirates of some sort, though none of the _Honor’_ s crew appreciated that they had been hiding behind plain flags; fly the Jolly Roger or stay petty robbers on land. The heavy-lifters of the crew carried the supplies across the connecting gangplank happily (leaving, of course, just enough food and water for their rival crew to survive), and, as quartermaster, Suki dutifully took note of their prizes and added each count of goods to the ship inventory list.

Suki grinned at Haru as he showed off an armful of crossbows to add to the weapon stockpile and then laughed at Bato and Hakoda who were very nearly crying over a crate of sea prunes they had found in the supply room below deck. Suki made her way down, as well, so she could determine what goods they actually needed and to keep the overexcited youths of the crew from clearing it out entirely. (The _Honor_ was a large ship, of course, but every ship had a weight capacity and Suki wasn’t interested in creating a situation where they would have to decide then and there what to toss overboard. There were always so many _fights_ when that happened, and it took forever to fairly mediate them. Besides, no one tended to win them, as Zuko quickly tired of the yelling and threw everything in question overboard before storming back to his cabin.)

She hummed to herself as she tallied things on her parchment with a stick of charcoal, instructing others what to grab as they hopped down the ladder. Her humming faded as she caught sight of something a little out of place. There was a seam in the wall behind one of the shelves, and the shelf itself appeared to not be bolted down—that was _extremely_ out of place. Anything that wasn’t secured was bound to slide and fall and be a general nuisance that was unable to stand the sway of the sea.

Suki heaved it to the side, grunting a little at the effort. It was _heavy_ and she suspected that there was going to be quite the bounty behind the door she was now able to see. The crew must have rushed to block it once they spotted the _Honor_. A little stupid, Suki thought, considering it was not entirely well-known that the Blue Spirit was shifting to the some-survivor versus no-survivor modus operandi. What was the use hiding away anything if they assumed no one would be alive to retrieve it? Might as well hand it over in some effort to have your life spared.

No matter, she thought, and pushed the door open to discover their most valued bounty.

Fuck.

She could see why this bounty was so valued. She was _beautiful_ , ethereal, the most lovely creature Suki had ever seen in her life (and Suki had frequented enough ports and royal ships and brothels in her time to have quite a rounded catalogue of lovely creatures). Her shockingly silvery-white hair was arranged into an intricate series of braids and loops, the shade contrasting beautifully against her smooth light brown skin. She was dressed in a robe that was with no doubt incredibly expensive, dark blue and trimmed with white fur and flowing in such a way that made her seem like a goddess pulled from the most pleasant dream.

The young woman (though Suki could nearly believe she was any age from thirteen to three-hundred. She seemed _ageless_ in such a mystical way) looked at her with obvious confusion, with a small crease between her silver-white brows, her head tilted just so. There was no fear in her eyes, oddly enough. Suki stood before her in the functional garb of a pirate, with a few thin scars on her hands from fighting, posture confident and sturdy, and was clearly, clearly, not some civilian who had wandered in from a city port, especially considering they were in the vast expanse of the ocean with no land in sight.

The woman spoke in a voice that seemed to shine as much as its speaker, clear and lilting. “You’re not here to rescue me, are you?”

Suki hadn’t moved from the door, and the woman had not moved from where she stood in the middle of the cold storage pantry. “Do you need rescuing?”

The potential goddess sighed and stepped forward, though Suki thought it was more of a glide. Suki moved back to allow her exit without entirely meaning to. It was foolish to let something so beautiful just go free, especially when the enemy crew had taken care to hide her so well in the first place. “Yes. It appears that I will be going from one captor to the next. I do hope you will be more pleasant,” she said, and added, oddly, “I think you shall.”

“Who are you?” Suki asked, unable to hold it back any longer.

“A captor who does not know who she is capturing?” she smiled softly, and it was a lovely thing. “I am Princess Yue of the Northern Glaciers.”

Suki stared at her for a long moment before inclining her head in respect, an unusual gesture she was not used to but did not seem able to stop. With a hand on the princess’ shoulder, she escorted her up the ladder and onto the deck, ignoring the questioning looks of the crew, and led her carefully across the gangplank to the safety of the _Honor_. 

Princess Yue looked around curiously, and though she had a strong hunch that they were pirates like those who had taken her from the Northern ship, it was still a shock to see the skull and crossbones flying at the bow. It was very unlike the royal ships she was used to, and even then she had rarely been on any ships, having been out of Northern Glaciers’ capital city barely enough times to count on two hands.

Suki stood by her, still holding her arm to ensure that she would not run off, though Suki doubted she would. She bounced a little, anxiously, as she waited for Zuko and the high ranking crewmen to come by. Eventually they did. First Bato, then Sokka, Mai and Ty Lee, and finally Zuko himself. 

The mask of the Blue Spirit clearly frightened Yue, and she took a step back with a quiet, wide-eyed gasp. Suki gave her a soft smile of reassurance and squeezed her arm before turning back to the crowd around her. “Well, boys,” she said. “We have one hell of a ransom.”

-

They put Princess Yue in Suki’s own quarters. As we know, the Blue Spirit leaves no survivors (previously), so the _Honor_ had no brig to her name. Not that they would have kept her in a brig in the first place; the princess was a very polite woman who accepted tea offered by quite scary pirates with a polite thank-you, smiled charmingly at curious peering looks that were sent her way, and looked at Suki in the most disarmingly interested way. (Suki changed the bedsheets for her—Suki rarely changed the sheets for herself, so this was quite monumentous, even if the princess didn’t know it.)

Princess Yue thanked her softly when she was escorted below deck and through the main crew sleeping quarters, and politely did not look around the heavily-decorated room (Suki was fond of pictures, particularly of the folk hero Kyoshi from her home village. An embarrassing number of portraits and sketches of the larger-than-life woman donned her walls), though they both knew she would be investigating thoroughly once Suki closed her in for the night. As she closed the door, Suki gave her an almost shy wave, feeling so very odd in her stomach. It was the sea prunes, she decided. It was a shame she was so charmed by the Southern Isle men’s enthusiasm, else she would have tossed them out the porthole when they weren’t looking.

Suki and Zuko spent several hours that night drafting out a ransom letter to send to Yue’s father, King Arnook. It was their first ransom, and it needed to be just right so that any future ransoms would be taken seriously should they decide to pursue a new revenue opportunity; the demand should not too high or too little, threats not too drastic or too light, script not overly high-class or scratched out like a bilge rat. They retired once they had reached a satisfactory stopping point (which just so happened to coincide with a grumpy Sokka sleepily coming over to play with Zuko’s hair until he became fondly annoyed enough to give in and go to bed). Suki spared a glance to her own cabin door before she laid in one of the nearby spare hammocks in the crew’s quarters and fell into a fitful sleep.

-

The next morning, Suki rapped on her cabin door, opening it once she heard Yue’s soft ‘come in’. The princess seemed well-rested and more put together than Suki ever was; the blankets on the bunk were disturbed and Yue had obviously slept, but her hair was smooth and unmussed and her robes were—

“Oh,” Suki said, apologetically. “I’m sorry, I should have found you a change of clothes.”

Princess Yue looked at her with a sweet morning smile. “That is kind of you, but I do not mind.”

“You might once you come up deck,” said Suki, slipping past her and rifling through the heavy chest of drawers to find something that might fit. Yue was a bit taller than Suki so they might be a little short, but they were similarly lithe enough that they shouldn’t be too tight to be comfortable. “Here,” she said, holding out a bundle to her.

Yue smiled with a grateful nod, and it took Suki an awkward moment to realize she couldn’t change if she was in the room, and she hopped to, hurrying out and closing the door behind her. Yue opened it some minutes later, looking oddly down at herself and back up to Suki. “Thank you.”

“They fit okay?” she asked, and ignored the odd way her stomach turned when she saw her in her clothes.

“I—I believe so,” she smiled a little, self-conscious. “I’ve never worn men’s clothes.”

Suki couldn’t help but laugh, surprised. “Well—they’re my clothes and not men’s, they’re just—pants. They, uh. They’re a little short around your ankles, but they’ll do. Your robe wouldn’t fare well against the sea spray, so.”

Yue nodded. “Thank you. But—am I going to the deck?”

Suki blinked. “Well, we weren’t planning on locking you down here. It can get boring, even on days off. But I guess that’s what—you do with prisoners, isn’t it?”

“Oh, no—” Yue hurried. “I would quite like to, and I promise not to run. Or, I suppose, swim, seeing as I do not know how. I have just never really been on a deck of a ship before.”

“Even on your own ship?” Suki asked, surprised.

“Yes. It is not appropriate, so I was kept in my quarters,” she sounded almost shy about this. Suki thought she was delicate and beautiful, like one of those intricately gilded eggs, but it was not like she was helpless. She was a princess, after all, and one of a water-based nation. She had to have skills to suit her land. “But,” Yue added, hopeful. “I would like to see. Please.”

When Suki was feeling romantic about her childhood, she imagined that she was born for the sea, and her birthplace, Kyoshi Island, was just a huge ship that rocked her to sleep until she could join Zuko on the _Honor_. There was magic in the crashing waves and strong gales and the swaying vessel that gave them life and purpose. She very much appreciated wanting to experience some of what the sea could offer, even just temporarily. With a grin, she stepped to the side and gave a broad sweeping gesture to the path between the long lines of hammocks that made up the crew bunks, and Yue gave her a soft smile as she passed by, going through the path and up the narrow steps onto the open-air deck above. Suki joined her, grinning as she watched Yue look around, curiosity even clearer on her face than it had been the day before. 

Aang waved at them enthusiastically from his perch on the tall gaff and Yue gave a shy wave back, looking almost mystified. She startled with a laugh at the clang of metal, and her smile faded just a little when she saw the source of the noise: Sokka rushing to use a sleek boomerang deflect the sharp kunai knives that were being thrown at him by their equipment master Mai, her face stern and aim unrelenting (though she was deliberately not hitting Sokka in ways that would inflict more than minor damage).

Suki nudged her a little and Yue startled again, looking at her. “It’s okay. They’re just practicing, it’s not a real fight or anything.”

“But that’s a girl,” blurted Yue, a pink blush spreading across her cheeks. She touched her lips as if she didn’t mean to speak.

Suki laughed, confused. “Yeah, that’s Mai. She’s the best with—well, most weapons. Zuko’s an absolute master with the dual dao, and Aang might be even better with his broadsword. But other than that—”

“She can fight?” Yue asked, unable to stop herself once more.

“Of course she can,” Suki said, furrowing her brow. “I mean, look at her.”

“But she’s a _girl_ ,” Yue emphasized.

“Mai—” Suki blinked and got it. “You don’t know how to fight.”

“Of course I don’t!” Yue looked so strangely intense, the deep need to understand clear in her eyes.

“They don’t teach girls to fight up there?” Suki asked.

“Of _course_ not. Our men fight, and our women heal and mother and—”

Suki got the picture. “That’s—huh. I never really thought about that. On Kyoshi, where I’m from, almost everyone learns how to fight. _Especially_ girls. All the men were drafted into a war and almost a whole generation was wiped out a couple decades, so. It became a tradition.”

“You were taught?” Suki had been wondering if the odd tone in Yue’s voice was affronted or jealous, and she landed decidedly on the latter.

“I was. I was trained in hand-to-hand combat _and_ fans,” Suki grinned proudly. “I was the _best_ when I was a Kyoshi warrior. I was their leader for a few years, until—” until her mother died, and she spiraled, and she found Zuko exactly when they needed each other most, “I joined the _Honor_.”

Yue looked back to Mai and Sokka as he yelped and rubbed his head, the blunt handle of a kunai bouncing off him and clattering to the deck. “Oh,” she said quietly.

Suki nudged her with a smile. “Maybe I can show you a few tricks while we wait for your father.”

Yue startled again, looking back to her. “My father?”

“Ha, well. Yeah, of course. Oh—” she put a guiding hand on her forearm and began to lead. “We should go to the captain’s cabin. He wants you to read the ransom letter before we send it off, just to make sure there’s no cultural lines we’re crossing or anything.”

Yue sighed softly, almost imperceptible, and walked by Suki’s side. The door to Zuko’s cabin was open as it often was, but Suki politely knocked on the frame anyways. He looked up as they entered and Yue looked at him, surprised. He wasn’t wearing the Blue Spirit mask, and that made him significantly less terrifying, and he was also much younger (and much prettier) than she expected. His youth was comforting, if she was being quite honest. The captain of her own ship had been older, experienced and respectful, but he had looked down on her as a young woman who he supposed knew nothing of the world. The captain of the first batch of pirates had been much worse, much uglier, and much more gruff, and leered at her in a way that made her distinctly uncomfortable. But this captain, the most fearsome Blue Spirit, was young and had a kind crew and a soft look about him, even though he looked quite stern and serious and had the most wicked scar she had ever seen. She had not seen many scars, but the point remained.

Zuko stood and bowed to her in a manner that fit her station exactly. It was clear to Yue, who had spent her entire life around people who knew how to form their manners around the various nobilities around the palace, that he had formal knowledge of how to do so. It was quite a strange thing to find on a pirate ship. She inclined her head in a manner that she hoped fit his station as well, though ‘captain of the most dreaded pirate vessel hailed as the King of the seas’ was a title that she had yet to come across in her texts. She sat in one of the plush armchairs in front of his desk at his gesture, Suki sitting in the other.

“It's an honor to meet you, Princess Yue,” he said, voice crackling pleasantly like the most gentle fire. “I apologize for the circumstances.”

“Thank you, Captain Blue Spirit. You have been most hospitable in spite of them.”

The captain smiled, just a quirk of his lips. “Call me Zuko, please.”

Yue inclined her head in acceptance and took quite a risk. “Zuko. Then you must call me Yue.” _No one_ had ever called her just Yue, with the exceptions of her father and late mother and a few extremely privileged parties. She held herself in the taut, elegant way of a princess, as if her body rejected her own request for informality. She glanced at Suki and inclined her head politely once more. “You as well. Please.”

Suki smiled and it was _lovely_ to Yue. “Of course, Yue,” she laughed. “I’m Suki. I don’t know if I’ve even told you.”

Yue shook her head just slightly and smiled, small and shy. “Suki. It is a pleasure. Truly.”

Zuko’s glance between them went unnoticed, and he drew their attention by putting the carefully-written ransom note in front of Yue. “Would you be so kind as to read this over? It is a letter for your father, to inform him of your capture.”

Yue’s soft smile fell just a little, and Suki only saw it because she could not tear herself away from that charming face. Yue took the letter in hand and read it silently, slowly. She nodded a little once she had finished, and placed it back on the desk for Zuko to take back. “I see nothing wrong,” she said quietly. “Though you could ask for more.”

Zuko huffed a laugh, surprised. “I’m not sure that is something people held for ransom often suggest.”

Yue lifted her chin just slightly higher than normal, and braced herself for her second major act of bravery of the day, possibly the year. “I do not suggest it for nothing, Zuko. I would like to request a favor in return.”

“I’ll hear it, though I can’t guarantee I’ll agree to your terms.”

“Please wait to send it,” Yue asked. Suki and Zuko exchanged baffled looks at the peculiar request, and Yue quickly added, “Just for a few days. I—” she took a breath and lifted her chin once more. “I was on my way to the Glacier Temples across the Dodging Pass, where I would meet my betrothed and we would be married. I was to arrive in two days more, and I do not think my previous captors notified them that I had been taken yet, so I am not sure that they know anything is amiss. But—please, Captain. I will be wed and once we are returned home, I believe I will never leave the city walls again. As—as terrifying as these past few days have been, I have enjoyed out of the walls, and I would very much appreciate just—a little more time in the world before I am kept away from it.”

Both Suki and Zuko looked at her for a long moment before Zuko spoke. “The letter will likely take a full day to get to King Arnook, and it would be a few days more for them to reach us.”

“Yes,” Yue agreed. “But my father will meet your demands swiftly, and I would be gone from your grasp and—” she glanced at Suki, who was still watching her. “Suki has offered to show me a few tricks of fighting. I would be loath to keep her from fulfilling her promise.”

It had not been a promise and they both knew it, but Suki grinned widely at her, and then at Zuko. “I don’t see what it could hurt.”

Zuko sighed. “I think it could hurt badly, regardless of if we yet see how. But—I will wait a few days, Yue,” he glanced at Suki. “I think Sokka would be sour at me if I didn’t. Marriage wasn’t for him, either.”

-

(Zuko heard Sokka say something moderately similar to this nearly a year back, and had resolutely not thought about it since then, believing that Sokka had meant marriage as a concept. But, as we know, Zuko is in love and he is stupid, and does not quite understand that marriage to someone and marriage to someone else can hold very different connotations. Eventually, the romantic wind will tire of this and will nudge Zuko towards a ring on a captured ship or a necklace on a black market port, but that would be a story for another time.)

-

The crew adopted Yue enthusiastically, treating her as the exciting, rare guest that she was. (She had experienced many other instances of bravery that faded into almost normal over the next few hours as she corrected “Princess Yue” to “Just Yue,” though it never stopped being a rebellious rush.) She had never met more interesting people, nevermind so many interesting people all in one place. They quizzed her on her life in the Northern capital—how cold is it really? _Quite cold._ How warm do you have to dress? _Quite warm._ Do you really not eat meat there? _I was not aware that was a rumor, yes, we do._ And from Katara, “Do women really not learn to fight?”

Yue looked at her, confused. Katara had introduced herself as a healer, from the Northern Glaciers’ sister nation of Southern Bend. If they were close enough to be sister nations, even if they had not truly been so in generations, was it possible to be so dissimilar? “Of course not. Women heal and mother, and men hunt and fight. It is a simple way of life.” Though she knew that their lives in the city, and the palace in particular, were intricate and involved and had so many unspoken rules and spoken laws and written customs and verbal instructions that it was hard for even Yue, who had been raised steeped in the palace culture, to keep clear.

Suki looked at Yue with such lovely blue eyes and gave her another gentle nudge, the third of the day. “Yue and I are going to go over some basics tomorrow. She’ll be here for another few days, I figure we might as well squeeze a lesson or two in.”

Yue smiled gratefully and nodded once, only looking away from her when Bato and Hakoda brought out the sea prunes ( _again_ ), and Yue expressed curiosity at the southern delicacy she had heard of but never tried. That led to a substantial chunk of the crew convincing her to try their own favorites, snacks and sweets and meals from around the world, encouraging her to give them arbitrary grades that involved comparisons to other foods, numbers one through ten, and some system of shapes all combined. If Suki had not had years and years of experience with this life and most of this crew, she would have been overwhelmed by the noises and tastes and excitement. She watched Yue carefully, prepared to beat the crew away with a stick if she wanted to be left alone, but Yue smiled and laughed and allowed herself to be goaded into saying that air carrots were in fact better than sea prunes, and then laughed harder, cheeks going pink and eyes shining bright at Hakoda’s betrayed dismay and Bato’s exaggerated feigned faint, and Suki let them be.

She went with Yue below deck once the moon rose high above their heads, when quite a few of the crew (herself included) started to nod off even as they continued to laugh a lot and drink a little and share stories about their own childhood homes and silly customs. Yue very nearly leaned on her as they walked through the bunks, taking care to stay quiet as to not wake those who had already gone to bed. They stopped in front of Suki’s door and Yue looked at her, sleepy but quite clearly happy.

“Thank you,” she said, putting her hand over Suki’s.

Suki felt like her touch was white fire that did not burn. “Eh,” she shrugged, “it was on my way.” It was true: her temporary hammock hung only a dozen feet from the cabin door.

Yue gave her an amused look. “Not only for escorting me. For—everything. Allowing me to stay, most of all.”

Suki smiled at her and felt incredibly warm, and impulsively turned her hand over so that she was holding Yue’s. “Of course. I can’t imagine not seeing the world, Yue. I wish you could see more before you have to go.”

“So do I,” said Yue softly, in the tone of one who has long since accepted her fate. “You’re so kind—all of you are. By far the nicest pirates I have ever met.”

Suki laughed. “You know, it won’t matter how many pirates you meet, that will still be the case.”

Yue smiled and looked at her with a sweet but unreadable expression. They seemed to remember their joined hands at the same time but neither let go for a long moment. Yue squeezed Suki’s hand warmly before letting go. “Goodnight, Suki,” Yue said, and closed the door behind her.

Suki stared after her for a little while before shaking herself and holding her hand to her chest. It seemed so cold without Yue holding it. She climbed into her own hammock and went to sleep easily, dreaming of a personified moon taking Suki’s hand in hers and holding a sharp fan in the other.

-

Yue received a very well-rounded education from the crew over the next few days. Suki made sure to keep track of her, both to ensure her safety and wellbeing but also to make sure she was having _fun_. She couldn’t imagine having a time limit to freedom, and hoped Yue wouldn’t look back on her time with them thinking it was wasted. It sometimes took a bit of effort to find her; it seemed she had become the favorite pastime of quite a few crew members (it didn’t hurt that she was so eager to learn that they often ended up with a helper for whatever task they were set upon). She spent a few hours learning how to whet blades with Mai, another few below deck listening to Teo talk about the clever mechanics he created to help the ship and crew sail strong, another using her embroidery lessons to help Bato mend their fishing nets, some more learning to navigate with Zuko and his compass during the day and Sokka and his stars during the night. 

Most of her time, however, was spent with Suki. Whenever she could get away from her duties as quartermaster, Suki sought her out and stole her away easily from whomever she had been keeping company. As much as Suki longed to bring out her fans and show her how much like a dance fighting could be, she wanted Yue to be able to take the lessons home with her. Yue didn’t know how to fight, or how to defend herself; even with royal guards and a fiance that was apparently the best soldier her nation had seen in a decade, there was always the chance of someone slipping through cracks in security, and Suki refused to leave her helpless. They ran through basic defense techniques, making sure that Yue was able to get the forms correct first and foremost, with the hope that she could continue to build her strength and make them more powerful when she was behind palace walls.

Yue was, as said, an eager student, perhaps even more so with Suki as her teacher, though she was quite enthusiastic with everyone else. They took the opportunity for another lesson after dinner, between the time that the sun was hanging low in the sky and before the torches on deck were extinguished for the night. They practiced for long hours, going over moves and methods over and over until Yue was able to demonstrate them without much guidance. She never once complained, though Suki knew she must have been getting tired - she had been the same way when she was first learning, ready to go until she physically couldn’t anymore, and she remembered resenting anyone (besides her mother) who tried to make her rest. When she saw that Yue’s legs were beginning to shake from exertion, however, she stopped and smiled.

“You did great today, Yue,” Suki said. She hoped Yue knew she meant it. It took a lot of focus and energy learning such physical tasks, and for Yue, who had never been allowed to be more than a delicate moonflower on a vine, it took more than usual.

“Thank you,” Yue breathed, chest heaving under her borrowed tunic. Suki hoped she wouldn’t be too sore in the morning; she had some tricks she wanted to show her that could put her small stature to use, and while Yue would undoubtedly take to practice regardless, Suki liked to teach with fresh muscles.

Suki sighed and Yue jumped when thunder rumbled in the distance. A storm had been brewing ten or so miles away for the past couple hours, and it seemed it was finally breaking through. “I suppose that’s our cue to go below deck before it gets too windy.”

“It’s going to storm?” asked Yue. She had known that it would, of course, but it was different to think about a storm while on a ship in abstract and a storm while on a ship in the very near future. “Does it get that windy?”

Suki smiled at her, reassuring. “It won’t be a bad one, don’t worry, Ty Lee would have told us if it was. Ask her about reading the skies tomorrow, if you’re interested. We haven’t been hit unexpectedly since she came aboard, something about the aura of sunrise or whatever. She’s like a witch—in a good way!” Suki quickly added, seeing Yue’s briefly alarmed face.

Yue nodded, and Suki had no doubt that she _would_ ask in the morning, but as it was, her anxiety about the incoming storm was evident on her perfect face. She found herself proud that she could even read Yue’s expression that much; there was no telling how much of her life she had had to spend with a carefully crafted mask, and either Suki was good at looking past it or Yue had grown comfortable enough to a little, and both were choices that Suki liked.

She touched the small of Yue’s back and returned the small smile Yue shot her, leading her below deck to the crew’s quarters and Suki-now-Yue’s cabin. They parted at the door as they did every night, with a warm squeeze of their hands, and soft smiles that felt appropriate in the gentle moonlight coming through the small portholes. As she did every night, Suki fell asleep easily with the familiar rocking of the ship. 

Her sleep was not all that peaceful, however. Ty Lee had been right; it was a simple sea storm, and held no immediate danger as long as everyone was careful and didn’t go dancing around on the wave-swept deck, and the usual skeleton crew was put on the night shift without the expectation of a sudden surge. It was, however, _loud_. It always was. Lightning cracked in the distance as it harmlessly struck the waves, but the thunder roared so strongly that Suki felt it rumble throughout her entire body. She never minded the feeling, if she was being honest, it was an exciting rush that reminded her of what a thrill it was to be alive. But she thought of Yue’s fright earlier—

A flickering light shone through the crew bunks as the quartermaster’s cabin door opened, and Yue’s face showed no subtlety in the shadows: she was terrified. Suki made some deliberate rustling sounds as she got out of her hammock, like Yue was a frightened rabbit that might get spooked at sudden movements.

“Hey,” Suki whispered. They were awake, and it was likely that quite a few crewmen had been woken by that last rumbling boom, but there were some who slept like the dead for anything but noises made by their fellow humans (and they were the absolute fussiest about being woken up).

Yue swallowed and clutched her own tunic in her fist. “Suki—”

Suki rubbed Yue’s arm comfortingly. “Let’s go in the cabin, eh? It sounds louder out here since it’s less closed off.”

Yue nodded quickly and retreated back into the cabin, sitting on the very edge of the bed and feeling too frightful to be nervous about the unknown etiquette of inviting a pirate captor into her own room late at night. “I’m sorry, Suki, I—”

Suki smiled and there was no derision or condescension behind it like Yue had seen on so many others. “Hush, it’s okay. I was already awake. This is your first storm at sea, yeah?” Yue nodded quickly and her hands trembled in her lap. Suki sat beside her on the bed, not quite touching, but not quite shying entirely away, either. “I was _terrified_ for my first storm. It was no worse than this, probably even a little lighter, but it was still so scary and loud and rainy—” she laughed. “It was before I joined Zuko on the _Honor_. I was on some dingy with a bunch of assholes who used me talking as an excuse to stare at my tits.” Another wave of thunder rolled overhead and Yue jumped. Suki moved a few inches closer so their knees touched, acting as a gratefully-met grounding force. “I think it was part of some initiation ritual for them. They put me, brand new to the crew _and_ to the seas, on deck during a storm in the dead of night, and acted like I was the biggest idiot for not knowing how to leverage my weight to counter the winds—ignoring that I didn’t have much weight to even leverage and the wind could have blown me overboard as easy as straw. It was awful, it really was. I thought I was gonna die that night.”

Yue seemed to be breathing a little steadier. She pressed her knee against Suki’s with a little more force, just to feel the heat between their touch again. “Is that why you left them for the _Honor_?”

“Some of it,” Suki grinned and leaned to bump shoulders with her without moving back afterwards. “They actually left _me_ , though, at some port near Omashu. They said it was because I was deadweight but really it’s because one of them tried to mess with me and I kneed him in the balls.”

Yue went pink at the terminology and giggled, covering her mouth. “Did you really?”

“Oh yeah,” Suki grinned. “It would have been worth getting kicked off just for that, but then I found Zuko and it was doubly worth it. I walked into a tavern and heard someone say that the Blue Spirit was in town looking for crew members and I turned right back around and walked out to find him. He brought me on board that day and, well. Here I am.” Thunder crashed loudly, and Yue jumped but leaned more onto Suki’s shoulder.

“Do you like it?”

“The _Honor_? Absolutely.”

“Being a pirate.”

Suki frowned in thought for a moment. “I do. I’m sorry if that’s not the answer you want to hear.”

Yue pulled away to look at her, confused. “Why would I not want to hear that if it’s the truth?”

“Being a pirate isn’t honorable, no matter how well we do it. I don’t like killing, but I _do_ love raiding and fighting and collecting treasures. And I don’t have much experience with it but the one captive we’ve taken has been pretty great, too.”

Yue laughed quietly, like a glass bell. “Flatterer.”

“Yeah, well,” Suki grinned and a yawn escaped. 

Shaking thunder boomed above again, and Yue spoke quickly before she could talk herself out of it. “Would you stay here tonight?”

Suki blinked. “Sorry?”

Yue’s cheeks were stained pink, as were the tips of her ears. “I apologize if that’s inappropriate, only—it’s still loud and I—I don’t want to be alone.”

Suki softened and took the effort to stop looking quite so shocked. “It’s not inappropriate, Yue, don’t worry. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

Yue shook her head, scarcely believing that she had agreed. Suki stood and Yue thought for a panicked moment that she had changed her mind and would leave her alone after all and would perhaps lock the door behind her in annoyance or—

“Here, take the side against the wall. It might make you feel less vulnerable, you know? Less in the open.”

Yue swallowed and glanced at her curiously as she moved to the far side, slipping under the blankets as thunder rumbled again. Suki put out the covered lantern before climbing in beside her. They weren’t used to the feeling of another person in their bed, the warmth of a body sharing the covers. Neither Yue nor Suki could find words that seemed right in the dark, so they stayed quiet in each other’s company. Suki found herself drifting off beside her even as the thunder faded, moving across the ocean slow mile by mile. Yue found her hand under the blanket just as one of the last rumbles sounded, quick enough that Suki could almost tell she had just been waiting for the excuse.

They fell asleep hand in hand, pressed side to side. Suki woke early the next morning as she always did and found herself wrapped around the taller woman, her chest to Yue’s back. Extracting herself carefully, Suki left to attend to her duties and left Yue to rest.

A few hours later, Yue emerged. Suki had honestly thought that Yue might avoid her eyes or keep herself busy to stay away. There was no precedent to base it on, but it was a hurtful hunch that Suki found herself dreading as soon as she saw Yue come up the stairs, hot breakfast in hand. But she came over to Suki at the helm as she always did, smiled at her brightly like she always did, told her good morning as she always did, and had the same bright light in her clear eyes as she always did - though Suki (perhaps self-importantly) thought that they shined a little brighter.

They did not talk about it, but Suki found herself in the quartermaster’s cabin that night as well, even though the sea was still and the sky was clear. Yue had touched her wrist just so as Suki turned to go to her hammock, and she changed direction without pause. It was innocent, truly - but there was something that lit a fire in Suki’s heart the same as if it hadn’t been.

The next day, they sparred on deck after a long day of chores for Suki and impromptu lessons for Yue, this time with real (wooden practice) swords. Yue was so clearly thrilled - it was as if a fire was lit within her, her laugh was louder, her movements quicker, her entire body screamed determination. Suki carefully let her get some hits in. The bruise on her shoulder was well worth the rare toothy grin that Yue shot her, though Suki knew Yue knew that she was taking it easy on her. It didn’t matter; a beginner’s first strike was an exhilarating joy that Suki gladly gave her.

When they returned the swords to the weapons locker, red and sweaty and happy, Yue turned to her quickly. “Suki—” she said, intensity in her voice. “I am a Princess of a great nation. I have servants at my beck and call and guards that bow low every time they see me and proper ladies who dote on me and I have power in my station. But for the first time in my life—I feel _powerful_.”

Suki began to reply, but Zuko appeared just before she could. “Yue. Your father replied. He will be here in two days’ time.”

Yue seemed to shrink in on herself - powerful devolved into powerlessness in the space of a heartbeat. “Oh. Thank you, Captain.”

Suki winced at the formality and shared a glance with Zuko over her head. She wanted to _keep_ her, but she knew that was patronizing in a way that Yue would surely not appreciate. She wasn’t a little lost isopup. She was the Princess of the Northern Glaciers, a royal woman accustomed to life that was decidedly not one of a pirate. Suki knew she belonged in a plush bed surrounded by comforts and not Suki’s mismatched little cabin, but she would greatly miss the sight.

Yue inclined her head first to Zuko and then, with a sad little glance, at Suki. “I will go prepare for his arrival.” She departed. The door to the cabin was firmly closed when Suki went below deck hours later, and no lamplight flickered from the gap near the floor, so she went to her own hammock for a restless sleep. She didn’t remember the nights being so cold.

Yue kept to herself the next morning, and had donned her own blue robe rather than Suki’s tunics and trousers. She was quite obviously avoiding Suki, her eyes were downcast on the rare occasions that they were near each other; Yue sought out silence or the quiet company of Mai or Zuko more often than not. Yue had been paying an odd amount of attention to Zuko the past couple of days, anyhow. If she had noticed, Suki might have been a little jealous, though she needn’t be. Yue watched his interactions with Sokka with interest, her gaze hidden from behind her eyelashes.

It was not that _those_ sorts of relationships were forbidden or even taboo in the Northern Glaciers, but they were not quite so public. Romance of all kinds, as it were, was kept quiet in private quarters, though spouses were often by each others’ sides when out. There was an added element of privacy between couples of the same gender, however, and as such, it was something that Yue had rarely, if ever, seen. But Sokka and Zuko were loud and soft and touchy and sometimes mean but in a strange way that was actually kind. It was perplexing, it was interesting, and it was—thought-provoking.

Suki was busy the entire day as she carried out her sailing shift, but she caught Yue’s eyes that evening, and found herself incredibly grateful that Yue didn’t look away. They shared a small, sad smile, and sat by each other for dinner, sides brushing with an electricity that Suki was not positive was there before.

It was Yue’s last night on the _Honor_ , and it touched Yue how much it brought the mood down. The crew that had quickly become her friends kept up happy conversation as they ate, trying to come up with convoluted plans for them to be able to write to her that involved transferring the letters from hawk to gull to mule to boat and on until it would be received about six months later. Yue laughed and smiled and squeezed Suki’s knee under the table, loathe to even think about her departure that was only hours away.

Her betrothed was only hours away. _Hahn_.

There was no brush of their wrists that night as Suki walked her to the cabin door, so she turned to head back to her own hammock, but Yue grabbed her hand before she could do so. Suki looked at her and at the unreadable expression on her face and followed her in, shutting the door quietly behind them. “Yue—”

Yue kissed her.

It was inexperienced and a little too hard but it was the best kiss Suki had ever had. Her stomach flipped and her cheeks went terribly pale then terribly red as her circulation seemed to switch directions. She didn’t give Yue time to question her impulse; Suki touched her waist feather light, noses bumping lightly as she kissed her again, keeping it light and warm and though they hardly made a sound it was somehow as loud as a wave crashing against a cliff. That’s what her heart felt like as it beat against her chest, at least.

Yue pulled away breathlessly nearly a minute later. She was shaking and pink and brighter eyed than she had ever been. “I had to,” she whispered. “I couldn’t live my whole life not knowing what it would feel like.”

Suki knew, but she had to _know_. “You are to be married, aren’t you? You wouldn’t go your whole life without a kiss.”

Yue gave her a little glare but it was negated by her hand resting on the dip of Suki’s waist and her quiet shaking breaths. “I couldn’t live without kissing _you,_ Suki.”

Suki’s breath caught in her throat. Suki was of the ocean and Yue was of the ice; their eyes were blue but they reflected those different hues in their souls. It was impossible to look into Yue’s bright polar soul without wanting to get closer, wanting to touch her and make it warm, so Suki did. She kissed her slow, deep, and with the weight of the world held between their lips.

They spent the night together once more. As it turned out, Yue had quite a few things that she could not live her whole life without knowing. She said it once as Suki kissed her clavicle, and was so charmed by Suki’s laugh that she couldn’t say keep herself from saying it with every wanted experience that came to her mind (she could not live without knowing Suki’s hand in her hair, her fingers tracing patterns on her shoulder, her tongue—).

Yue was already on the deck when Suki awoke. Suki emerged from below and watched her back with sadness biting at her heart, and Yue stared out at the still waters and the speck of a ship on the horizon. Her rescue would arrive within the hour.

Suki touched the small of her back with a comforting hand; Yue turned into her side, tucking herself against her shoulder. Suki kissed her soft white hair and put an arm around her waist before wrapping both arms around her in a warm embrace. “Hey.”

“Hi,” Yue whispered. Neither of them knew what to say after that, so they only watched Hahn of the Northern Glaciers' steady approach.

The rescue party was met with a full deck of dreaded pirates, with their masked Captain Blue Spirit and Quartermaster Suki flanking Princess Yue in the forefront. Yue did not meet her fiance’s eyes as he approached, choosing instead to gaze at the deck at her feet. She looked demure and delicate—Suki had not realized how different the Yue she had met was from the Yue she had become until that moment. She cast a glare at the sullen soldier who was standing at the taffrail with his arms crossed. Both ships were oddly silent as the _Honor_ ’s gangplank was lowered between them.

Hahn walked across confidently, sharp blue eyes meeting Zuko’s behind the Blue Spirit mask. He jerked his head and two of his crewmen heaved over a heavy sack of gold each, throwing them at Zuko’s feet. It was a ploy to make him flinch, but not one of _Honor_ ’s crew (or Yue, for that matter) took the bait.

“You’re lucky King Arnook is allowing you to live,” Hahn said, voice smooth but unpleasant, imperious.

“How gracious,” Zuko intoned. He turned to Yue and bowed low; lower than fit for a princess. “It has been an honor having you on board, Princess Yue.”

Yue bowed back, a small smile on her lips. “You have been very hospitable, Captain Blue Spirit. I thank you,” she smiled, her lips quirked in a way that was almost teasing. “I had an enjoyable time, and I shall carry it with me.”

Zuko laughed quietly and gave her shoulder a squeeze. The informality made Hahn step forward with an angry grunt. “Princess Yue, come, let us go.”

Suki pulled her into a much more informal hug before Hahn could get closer, kissing her cheek where he could not see. “I’ll miss you so much, Yue.”

Yue hugged back fiercely, tucking her nose against the curve of Suki’s jaw. “I’ll miss you,” she said, voice wavering. “Thank you for—thank you. I’ll never forget you for as long as I live.”

“Princess,” Hahn barked, and Yue let go, eyes shining with unshed tears.

“Goodbye, Suki, Zuko,” she said quietly, so that Hahn would not hear the Blue Spirit’s name, then louder, “Everyone.”

There was a chorus of ‘Bye, Yue’s as she turned, allowing Hahn to grab her elbow and walk her across the plank to the Northern ship. The board was raised and the taffrails locked back into place, and the _Honor_ ’s crew slowly dispersed to do their duties. Zuko patted Suki’s arm and left to watch the ship depart from the helm, leaving Suki to watch Yue’s form move farther and farther away from her.

“Princess,” she heard Hahn say, and she saw Yue’s head duck just a little lower. “You’re almost more trouble than you’re worth.”

That was enough.

Suki had been the best Kyoshi warrior of her generation, a title that required great talent and agility. It came in quite useful then, as she ran and launched herself across to the other ship, catching herself on the ropes and flipping over the side with ease. “Actually,” she said, brushing hair from her face. “I think we’ll keep her a while longer.”

Hahn looked ready to murder and reached for his sword, but Yue’s surprised and delighted laugh caught him off guard. She tore from his grip and ran to Suki. “What are you _doing_?”

“Something ill-advised,” Suki grinned and pulled her close and put her Kyoshi skills to good use once more, holding Yue tightly as they leapt from one ship to another, landing just gracefully enough on the deck of the _Honor_ to not tumble over. It was something out of a story book, truly; two beautiful women soaring through the air, held up by strength of one and faith of the other. Yue felt like she would never be able to stop laughing, her cheeks aching from a wide, exhilarated grin.

Zuko squinted at the Northern ship for any sign of attack, but they were baffled enough to be thrown off balance. Hahn stood mid-deck, hand still on his undrawn sword, mouth agape. “ _Yue!_ ” 

Both ships had already begun to depart from one another, and Yue’s dismal future was drifting away inch by inch. She offered him a wave and yelled, “Goodbye, Hahn! Perhaps I will see you soon,” she paused and glanced at Suki, “but perhaps not.”

They knew there would be trouble from this later, beyond a shred of doubt. But for that moment and for as many moments as they could spare afterwards, they were a ship full of joy and hope, and Yue’s bright grin would make it worth it all in the end.


End file.
